A Promise Through the Stars
by XxRawrSmoresxX
Summary: A catastrophic event in the alternate universe pulls the Doctor to the scene of the wreckage, and among the rubble he finds one sole survivor, his son. Set after Season 2 finale. 10th Doctor and OC's
1. Prologue

**This Is my first attempt at a Doctor Who Fic. Please let me know what you think!**

I do not own any of the Original Doctor Who Characters or ideas.

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**Prologue**

His coat tails whipped behind him as he ran. The bitterly cold rain plastered his trousers and suit coat to his skinny frame. He had his arms protectively around the slight bulge on his chest underneath the blue oxford shirt. The normally unruly tufts of copper hair on his head were slicked down with rain. His eyes only portrayed fear, wild startling fear. Their normally chocolate hue was completely opaque.

The slap of the red trainers he wore resonated with every bound. His hearts began to freeze when he noted the absence of movement from the bundle he held. Brick houses lined the street, but each one was vacant. At last around the corner stood an obviously out of place item. A slight sigh relief escaped his lips as he gave a short whistle and the doors creaked open.

With a swift kick of the door, he entered the blue police box. He ran straight past the tall column of glowing coral in the center of the room. It resonated a nervous hum. A feeble whimper came from the bundle beneath his shirt, followed by it turning more into him, seeking warmth. His shoulders shook with evident relief at the movement.

A white clean room stretched before him as he made his way to one of the cots. He sat down after gathering several towels. One arm at a time he peeled back the now exaggeratedly heavy coat, next followed his suit jacket. Very carefully he removed the wet oxford shirt that clung to his back button by button. The infant he had protectively cradled in his arms now sought out more warmth and began to whimper.

"It's alright little one," he spoke soothingly as he reached for one of the waiting towels, "I'm here. I've got you."

The infant no more than two months, looked up expectantly. He wrapped the baby in a blue terry cloth towel before picking it up in his arms. Quietly he moved around the medical bay, swaying the small boy in his arms while whispering a melodious tune. After several moments the infant had fallen asleep. Looking around he noticed that the TARDIS had produced a cradle that looked suspiciously like his own, but the name on the side was different.

"Thanks old girl." he whispered to his ship as he lay the infant in the cradle.

Quietly he searched his trouser pockets for his sonic screwdriver, finding the setting to dry clothing he set to work on the pile of sodden clothes on the floor. The torn trousers he wore would not do for the rest of the night. Shivering from the chill of being only in his pants and an undershirt, he began to sift through the closet on the far side of the room until he found a pair of pajamas.

Now dressed in warm pajamas, he made his way back over to the cradle. He peered down at his sleeping son. A sad smile made its way onto his face. The little boy began to fidget, now he looked up at his father with hazel eyes. The tuft of brown hair stuck up on his head mirroring the same look his father had. HIs father chuckled when he began to wiggle his way out of the blanket.

"Alright come here." he reached into the cradle.

With his son tucked in his arms he reached for his sonic before going back into the corridor.

"Well, James," he said in a quiet voice, "This is your new home."

Carrying his son out of the medical bay, he started to walk to his room which the TARDIS had moved relatively closer. The entire walk to his bedroom, the Doctor had spoken soothingly to James; promising amazing trips, showing him the best museums,, and getting him the best toys. When he got to his bedroom door he had been in the middle of talking about the trip to New New York. He told him of the sights, the people, and what they had done, all the while leaving out the bits and pieces of Rose. It was still too painful to talk about, it was too soon.

His room welcomed him with a slight glow, highlighting the matching ebony furniture and TARDIS blue bedding. In the corner sat a crib complete with midnight blue bedding accented with silver lining and planets. The mobile on top was beautifully crafted with several planets well known to the Doctor, in the center of all the outer planets hung one in particular that brought tears to his eyes. Gallifrey sat in the middle in all its magnificent glory, so meticulously crafted and it brought back reminiscent memories for the Doctor. Next to the crib was a small nightstand and changing table, both in the same matching ebony stain and silver accents. Laying James on changing table, his father quickly found a suitable pair of pajamas for him.

He chuckled at himself after he had changed his son successfully into the Earth impressioned planet pajamas. His son cooed contentedly as the Doctor placed him in the crib. Once again he began to hum a melodious tune, one that he had heard many times before, a Gallifreyan lullabye.

Once James had fallen asleep, the Doctor leaned over the edge of the crib and placed a kiss on the crown of his head.

"If anything ever happens and I can't be near you," he took a shaky breath, "Look to the stars, because I promise that I am always somewhere out there."

He stroked his son's cheek lovingly with one finger before moving to his own bed.

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That night his dreams were filled with the sickening images he had seen earlier and different scenarios that could've happened. He awoke in a panic after he had seen the image of Rose's body once more. Across the room his son was shrieking in terror, bounding out of his bed he scooped him out of the crib. He cradled him close to his chest and rocked them on the edge of his bed. Tears streamed down his face as he calmed his son down from the same exact nightmare he had had.

"You're okay," he whispered hoarsely, " I've got you and I am never ever going to let you go."

If only the Doctor knew that in several months time, the fates would be cruel once more and cause him to lose his son once more. Only this time it would only be physically he would still have a mental bond with him, how strong he had yet to know.

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Thanks for reading! Let me know if i should continue with it! Please read and review


	2. Chapter 1

**Next chapter of this fic. Let me know if you like it and if I should continue it. Hope you enjoy!**

**I don't own any of the Doctor Who characters.**

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Chapter 1

"_Look to the stars," he had whispered in my ear, "because I promise that I am always somewhere out there." _

It was a promise he had made oh so many years ago. A promise that I still trust and hope to be true. He had left me on the doorstep of a house on the outskirts of New York City when I was a year old. It was the home of Susan and Thomas Clark, a couple who couldn't have a child of their own. He had put me in blue wooden cradle with my name carved into the side, I had watched him make it, and slid an envelope on top with instructions on top. They would never know it was my name on the side of the cradle, to them it just looked like intricate circles, but I knew it was my name written in Gallifreyan. The instructions in the envelope were as follows: I was to never be taken to the doctor, hospital, etc., never to be given aspirin, and given the gift inside of the box that would arrive the next day when I turned eight. The gift was in another box my father had carved for me with his name, my mother's name, and my name carved into the lid. Inside on a silk pillow lay a telescope that he had found somewhere in the TARDIS, but had made the engravings himself. The interior of the box took my breath away when I did get to finally open it: so much thought had been put into the exact layout of the rich velvet within.

The December air nipped harshly at my cheeks and nose making them flush pink with cold. My breath billowed in small huffs, the lights from beyond revealing the moisture clouds in front of my eyes. A deep royal blue wool hat on my head did next to nothing to warm my ears. I rubbed my hands together then replaced my mittens. Even though winter had just begun, it was already quite fierce.

My birth name is James Theodore Calum Tyler-Smith, and I am 9 years, 11 months, 6 days, 12 hours, and 54 minutes old. I was given the name Thomas Clark by my adoptive parents. My mum died when I was three months old, I haven't seen my dad since I was a year old, and I am a Time Lord. I remember everything that happened that tragic day; my dad shouldn't have been there, but it's a good thing he was. There had been blood, lots of it, metal men had come from the ground, and buildings were collapsing. Everyone had been petrified, except for my mum. She hid me and told me she loved me, her precious pup she had called me. I also remember my father finding me where my mum had hidden me, in a cabinet under the stairs. He had looked terrified with blood on his arms, but once he saw me moisture coated his eyes. Tears began to fall when he read the letter that was tucked underneath my basket. It had been raining that day. What events happened that day still escape me. However, what I can't remember no matter how hard I try is the sound of his voice. Show me a picture, sure I can remember it's my dad, but play me a clip of him talking and I wouldn't be able to tell you.

A chilly wind shoots straight through me again, giving me another not so subtle reminder of where I am. I shiver, not only from the cold, which doesn't bother me much since my body temperature is already quite low, but also from recalling the scary emotions of that day. The New York City skyline glitters against the pitch black drop of midnight silhouetting my skinny frame against the hill I'm standing on. With a sigh, I take off my glasses and raise my bronze telescope to the stars once again. Intricate symbols swirl under my fingertips as I make a broad sweep of the sky: wonder, stars, home, son, and family. Each of them translated in my head instantly. Underneath them, my name is engraved into a plaque of Luzierian bronze. All of them written out in Gallifreyan.

Through the glass of my telescope I spot some planets from this solar system like, Neptune or Jupiter, but also planets from the Sexton Quadrant like Turbleon. However there's no blue police box, no TARDIS, just the stars and planets from the Milky Way and beyond. Yet another day comes and goes without any sign of home, or at least my home with my dad. My tufty brown hair begins to peak over the barrier of my hat. With an annoyed sigh I tuck my telescope back into its stand to try and stick the fringes back under the edge.

_Well, you better get used to it,_ came a chuckle.

I freeze instantly, looking from the corner of my eye before slowly turning on my heel to look for who had just talked to me. Thomas never followed me out here when I told him I was going to go stargazing.

_You're not going to be able to see me. _He paused for a moment,_ Well, I guess you could given the right circumstances._

"Well," I said cautiously, "then where are you?"

_I'm in your head, he said amused, it's been a long time since I've been able to talk to you, wait no, and it's been awhile since I've been able to make any direct contact at all. Looks like you've picked up that lovely New York accent as well._

I began to think of who it could be when it spoke again.

_Oh James_, it laughed wistfully, _I would've thought you would remember my voice_...

It suddenly clicked in my head, like a piece of a puzzle falling into place, _Dad? I asked quietly._

_Ah yes my boy_, he said with a joyous sigh.

I began to feel relief and happiness, but only one of them were mine. A faint image of a smile crossed my mind. Even though it was faint, I could tell it was broad.

I raised my telescope once more, _Well, where are you?_ I asked using the voice in my head.

I had been so focused on the sky I didn't notice the whirring noise coming from behind me. I also didn't notice a long lean man step out of a blue police box wearing nothing but a brown pinstripe suit and trench coat complete with a pair of well-worn white trainers. He squatted down and rested his hand on one knee.

"Turn around," he said.

I don't know when I dropped my telescope or even crossed the five yards that separated my dad and me. My hat had fallen off as well. I just know that in a flash, I felt myself running straight into his open arms, snagging my fingers into the canvas texture of his trench coat wanting desperately for this to be real. I had always had dreams like this, but whenever I would finally reach him, I would wake up. He returned my enthusiasm with a bone crushing hug. I heard him sniff back the tears that were threatening to overwhelm him.

I nuzzled my head into his shoulder.

"I knew you'd come back," I told him, "You promised."

"That I did James. That I did."

I pulled back to look at his face again, but this time with more detail. His hair was still wild in front, but he looked a bit older, his eyes revealed more strain. Freckles still smattered the front of his face, just like me. His eyes were filled with amazing joy; I could feel his surprise as well about how much we look alike. I knew he saw some of my mum in me as well, the small prick of sadness let me know about that. He reached out and tried to smooth out my wild hair, eventually giving up when he noticed it was just as uncooperative as his own. Wiping a bit of dirt off my cheek with his thumb, he stood extending his hand to me.

"Well James, would you like to go home?" he asked.

"What about the Clarks?" I looked at him confused.

"Let's just say, they're ready to let you go,"

He elaborated when he saw the confused look on my face.

"It was in the letter that I would come get you one day, but I just didn't know when," he looks at me wistfully then ruffles my hair, "now I can finally have my son with me again."

"Well, then what are we standing out here in the cold for?" I throw him a teasing smile; on the inside my whole body is just itching to be inside of the TARDIS once again.

"I know that feeling too," he chuckles, "go on. I'll be in shortly."

"Don't touch-" I didn't catch the last part because I had already torn into the TARDIS and down a random corridor.

I'm home. Not a fake home or a temporary home, I was in MY home.


	3. Chapter 2

**New chapter and I wasn't able to have someone check over this one, so my sincere apologies for anything that is incorrect. Please read and review**

**I do not own Doctor Who.**

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Chapter 2:

He looked to the stars once more, whispering his thanks before joining his son in the TARDIS. The TARDIS herself was glowing brighter from the joy of having her small cub back. The Doctor moved over to the captain's bench to wait a few minutes before going to look for James. For him, it had only seemed like eight years ago, but in reality the Doctor had spent much more time away from his son. It had been a rough eighteen years for him. He rubbed a hand down his face to remove any weariness he felt. Sixteen years away from his boy because of a war raging in the other universe. He laughed bitterly. The war itself had only lasted a year at most; he had resolved it after compromising with the leaders of both sides. He glanced around at his phenomenal ship. Seventeen years he had been traveling with her, securing all of the major cracks of time and space in the other universe due to the invasion of Pete's world, the genocide that occurred that day, and the war that had already raged for a year. Just days ago, he had crossed back through the void again after closing the last few remaining cracks.

While in Pete's world or No Man's Land as they now called it, he had collected Rose's belongings from her room in the Tyler Mansion. It had taken him hours of pacing on the brick pathway in front of the estate just to work up the courage to go in again. He had run his hand through his hair countless times before running it down his face. All he could think of were the events of that day that had drastically changed his normally happy and positive outlook on all that was.

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_ He had recently parted ways with Martha after the year that never was. As with most companions he moved around the console crestfallen. All of a sudden, he was thrown off of his feet as the TARDIS lurched violently. The cloister bell had already begun to ring. After a violent landing, he ran to the doors. In the second he reached them, a familiar voice whispered, "Find Him, Find My Cub." Something about that voice was so familiar, but his already over analyzing mind was whirring and could not match the voice to a face. _

_ He shook his head and ran out the TARDIS doors. Metallic dust was gathered in sporadic piles around a field, but what caused the Doctor's hearts to beat wildly with fear and anxiety were the sight of bloodied human corpses everywhere. A quick scan with his sonic revealed that this was Pete's world, the metallic piles of dust were cybermen, and there were tremendous amounts of rift energy. He began to run, desperately looking for those he had left here._

_ The Tyler mansion was in complete ruin; the windows had been blown out, dozens of armed Torchwood soldiers lay unmoving on the ground, the metallic dust was everywhere. Ominous storm clouds gathered overhead, successfully mirroring the somber mood of the planet. He ran past the smashed front door with a savage need to find a survivor, one last survivor on this brilliant human planet. The first Tyler he found was Pete, slumped against a doorframe in the west wing hallway. Even though the Doctor knew he was far gone, he completed a sonic scan regardless and came to the inevitable conclusion he already knew. He knelt down and lifted him onto a bench that was parallel with the wall. With great care he lay him down then folded his arms across his chest. Stiffly rising from Pete's side, he walked through the doorway he had been in front of. Tears pricked his eyes when he caught sight of a woman cradling a young boy, no more than the age of two, both slumped over in a hickory rocker. Jackie Tyler sat motionless, her arms still tightly wound around her son Tony._

"_Oh Jackie," he whispered._

_ Once again he completed a quick scan of them both before moving on. He had been so overwrought with emotion; the incessant nag of fear in the back of his mind went unnoticed. He didn't even take note of the fact that it wasn't his own. The distraught emotions of the possible fate of the one special person he had left behind had him running out of the room and down the hallway in a matter of seconds._

"_Rose?" he shouted, sprinting down the hall, "ROSE!?"_

_ He ran manically through the rest of the west wing before checking the east. The estate's normally regal essence had been converted into a horrible traumatizing scene. The champagne carpets in some rooms held traces of blood and the cybermen dust, whole paintings were scattered haphazardly in various areas, most had been torn to shreds, and upholstery and furniture had been turned over or thrown across the room. He had been inspecting the upper east wing when he heard a faint whisper emerge from what appeared to be a supply closet. _

"_Hello?" he called out, he moved in with his sonic drawn out, "Who's there?"_

_ He didn't receive a response. Cautiously opening the door, he saw the battered frame of _

"_Rose..." he gasped._

_ He was instantly at her side, scanning her with the sonic while cradling her frail frame. Her torso was bloodied and her blonde locks were matted with blood and sweat. He could already see her chest heaving to fill her lungs with enough oxygen. The sonic scan had revealed that she had a partially collapsed lung, several organs were shutting down, and there was central nervous system damage. In other words it was going to be difficult _

"_Doctor…" her voice came out in a strained whisper._

"_Oh my sweet Rose," he gathered her in his arms. _

"_I can fix this, let's just get you to the TARDIS." His voice shook with emotion._

_ She looked at him with sorrowful hazel eyes. Her right arm raised, she rested her palm on his cheek, running her thumb ever so slightly over it. The Doctor placed a shaky hand around hers with a tight grip._

"_You can't my love," she whispered, "there's no hope left for me, but there is for your cub. Find him, find our cub Doctor…" her voice trailed off as she tried to regain her breath._

_ She gave him a weak smile when she saw the look of shock register on his face. He placed a gentle kiss on the palm he was still holding to his cheek. _

_ The light in her hazel eyes began to grow fuzzy, "Promise me Doctor," he retrained his chocolate brown eyes on her face, "take care of him." _

"_I promise Rose. I promise you Love," his words sounded foreign even to himself as they came out in a strangled sob. _

"_Remember one thing Doctor," her chest was heaving with effort, "I love you forever." _

_ Her chest nearly ceased to move methodically up and down. Sobs racked through the Doctor's slim frame as he pulled Rose into his lap. He leaned down near her ear and through his tears whispered the one thing he had always wished he could tell her, his name. Placing a feather light kiss on her forehead, he began to sway back and forth with her body in his arms. He leaned his forehead against hers one last time before carrying her out of the small closet. After giving her as proper of a burial as he could, he placed several stones over the sight so he could remember the placement if he ever got the chance to return. _

_ Though his disconsolate thoughts however, came another nudge in his conscious, one that was of fear, one that did not belong to him. His head snapped up for a moment before allowing a nudge of his own to reach out. The Doctor had still been crouched in front of Rose's grave when he felt a series of urgent nudges answer the one he had sent out. He jumped up from his spot and sprinted back inside of the Tyler Estate. He would find this connection because there was only one species that could respond like that with such urgency to one of its own. A Time-Lord._

_ Entering through the arch that led to the foyer, the Doctor began to look around. Glass crunched underneath his trainers as he slowly moved along both sides of the foyer. He would find whoever it was that could reach out to him. In that moment the estate shook from the rumble of the storm overhead. A whimper came from underneath the stairs. With his sonic drawn in his left hand he made a quick dash to the side of the door. _

"_Hello? Is anyone in there?" his voice was unsteady._

_No answer._

_ There was another nudge in his mind of fear, he sent out soothing thoughts to try and ease the fear of whoever it was. He wrapped shaky fingers along the brass knob before slowly turning it open. The door clicked open and he opened it cautiously. There on the floor was a large wicker basket and inside of it lay a wide eyed infant. His eyes were still slightly cloudy, but the Doctor could distinguish the hazel color they would become, so he was still under four months and older than two months. The little boy's hair was sticking up in small copper tufts. The Doctor stood there, mouth agape, before noticing a letter underneath the basket. He shifted himself onto the floor next to the wicker basket and draped a hand in to run a soothing finger along the baby's cheek._

_ ** My Doctor,**_

**_ If you're reading this you've a) obviously been able to step through the void and b) undoubtedly found all of the destruction the cybermen left behind. _**

**_ I'm also sure that I have already passed. There's nothing you could've done for me so don't go blaming yourself, yeah? _**

**_ I knew I had to do it; it was the only way to save the rest of the species in this universe. _**

**_ I hope it wasn't too hard on you seeing me the way I probably was, _**

**_ and I'm__ sorry to have put you through that. _**

**_ The cybermen that showed up however weren't normal cybermen though, they were more out of control_**

**_ than ever. _**

**_ We didn't instigate anything; they just showed up and began to attack. _**

**_ I may not be with you anymore, but James will be. He's your son Doctor. _**

**_ He's our beautiful bouncing baby boy. His full name is James Theodore Calum Tyler-Smith. _**

**_ I wanted him to have a part of you even if it is just one of your pseudonyms. _**

**_ He's three months old exactly today. _**

**_ I don't have much time left, please take care of my cub, take care of our son and show him the stars like you got to show me. _**

**_ Your Beloved,_**

_** Rose** _

_ He read the letter three times over._

_His son._

_ Quietly shifting himself directly over the basket, he looked down at his son once again; his eyes began to grow moist once again with an occasional tear rolling down a cheek. He hadn't had a son in such a long time, yet now he had one with the most fantastic woman he had ever known. He used their connection to soothe James before scooping him up. He choked back another sob when James reached up a chubby hand to stroke his face._

_ There was nothing left in this world, that he was sure of. He tucked James underneath his shirt and coat before tucking the letter into his pocket. The Doctor moved into the freezing rain and looked back over his shoulder, he whispered goodbye and did what he did best. He ran._

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That had been the best and worst day of his life. He had gained a son, but lost many loved ones. The Doctor took in a deep breath before straightening himself up to go out and look for James.

Once he was down a corridor, the TARDIS dimmed a bit, sensing her Time-Lords pain over reminiscing poignant memories. She too missed her wolf, but was glad to have her cub back.


	4. Chapter 3

**Hello everyone! I just want to say thanks to everyone who follows this story and for everyone who comments, it really inspires my muse onwards and upwards! Since I have been busy I will try to get another chapter within the next three weeks. As always please leave a review once you're done with this chapter, it helps keep me writing! Enjoy!**

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Chapter 3

I ran excitedly down the corridor, popping my head into every doorway that lined the sepia walls. The thrill of seeing what was behind every one, the continuous surprise had me laughing hysterically as I continued down. Behind a pair of elk doors with marble handles and a swirled pattern, revealed a library so grand, you can't see the ceiling. Next to it had been large ebony doors with silver handles; the Gallifreyan writing along the perimeter led me to deduce that it was my dad's room. The one with the red cherry door and simple brass knob showed some sort of field with billowing silver red grasses. It gave me a nice warm feeling, a sort of reminiscent kind of feel. A shiny gold door that looked very promising turned out to be only a supply closet. I'd snorted when I opened it, here I was seeing different landscapes, grand regal libraries, and rooms full of amazing and surprising things…and then behind a shimmering gold door, all I got was a supply closet. It goes to show that all that glitters really isn't gold.

There was one door though, one door in particular that was carved out of elm with what looked like vines crawling intricately up the left hand side. The door handle was cast iron, curling organically inward, giving the door an old rustic appearance. Step by step, I moved closer, my fingers barely grazing the rustic surface. When I tried to open the door however, the handle was scorching to the touch.

"Ow!" stunned I pulled the scorched fingers into my mouth.

It stunned me for a bit that the TARDIS had burned me like that, but I decided if the TARDIS didn't want me going in, then I would respect her wishes. With one last look at the rustic elm door, I continued on with my search.

I had just walked past the wardrobe room, which I decided I would take a look at later, when I came across what seemed to be a completely normal looking pale birch door. It had a platinum knob, two narrow panels running parallel, and even though it seemed so ordinary, something was drawing me to it. Without any feeling of caution, I moved closer. While wandering around the TARDIS' corridor I had felt my dad popping in and out along the outer edge of my mind, never fully communicating just lending his presence, and I found it comforting. But this burning desire to open the door in front of me made me completely oblivious to our fading connection.

Unhesitant, I reached out, circling my fingers around the pleasantly warm knob. A connection buzzed and raced through my mind, not like the one I share with my dad or the TARDIS, but as if it were something new. I braced my left hand against the wood before slowly rotating the knob. The soft click resonated through the hall. With a small nudge from me, the door opened soundlessly on smooth hinges. Soon I was standing in the doorway of a relatively large room.

I could hear the TARDIS' chiming amusement as my jaw, quite literally, hit the floor. Spread out before me was a warm earth-color toned room, with a complementing variety of browns, greens, and whites. As I walked in, I noticed that the door was set at an angle compared to the rest of the room. My footsteps fell lightly on the plush white shag carpet while I moved into the center of the room. The regular click of my tan loafers was muffled as I walked further into the room. Chocolate brown walls lined the room all around with shelves constructed about four feet to the left of the nightstand, to the right of the bed, and just to the left of the door. I moved in a slow concentric circle to observe the whole room. A warm glow brightened up the interior while I began to walk to the full bed that lay in the center of the room. I gingerly slipped off my black flannel jacket and lay it at the foot of the bed. Just being in this room was making me seem instantly at ease. After observing the rest of the room I turned my attention onto the bed I was sitting on. The birch headboard was laid out in a very straight angled design with a Gallifreyan script carved into the top right hand corner. _Wonder, Home, and Stars,_ just like the engravings on my telescope, well almost. My fingertips grazed the gold threads that accented a deep forest green duvet. It felt so soft and warm yet, it seemed like it could be very cool and refreshing.

"Wow…" the word escaped my lips in a hushed whisper.

In the far corner of the room was a matching birch bookcase, which from where I was standing, didn't seem to be completely filled yet. There was also a brown suede beanbag chair that was off centered on a hunter green rug. I sat down on the left side of the bed after taking note of the desk that was in the room as well. While running my hand over the star embroidery on the bottom left-hand corner of the sham, I noticed the nightstand that was located adjacent to it. I shifted myself closer to the head of the bed to sit next to the nightstand. First thing that stood out was a futuristic looking alarm clock, which after some prodding and poking, showed a hologram of the cosmos that pretty much lit up the whole room. I gazed dumbfounded around the room for a bit, observing the scene lay in front of me, before shutting it off and viewing what else was on the nightstand. I picked up one of three textbooks from the open storage area of it. After turning it in my hand, I brushed my fingers along the spine. _Geology Throughout the Stars: 235__th __Edition_. Well, this must have been something the TARDIS put in here, the publisher somewhat appeared to be the same one of the textbook I had been reading at the Clarks' house, just a very futuristic version. I replaced it with the others and knelt down to read the remaining titles. _Inner Mechanics of All Machines: What You Need to Know, The True Facts of Physics. _

I was truly awestruck by the textbooks. I had piles of them at my old home with the Clarks, they lined the perimeter of my bed and filled my bookshelves, but they had never been so advanced.

"Thanks old girl," I said quietly to the wall of the room.

I got a content chime in response. With a sigh, I hoisted myself up once again to look at what else covered the nightstand. My heart caught in my throat when my eyes spotted a deep silver frame. It was no bigger than 7x5 inches, but its small size didn't deny the great upheaval of emotion it carried. I slipped out of my loafers and placed them underneath the bed just like I did at home, before carefully picking up the frame as if it were made of the most fragile glass. I slowly folded my left leg underneath me and stared the precious item I held in my hand. Mesmerizing emerald color lines the interior of the frame and silver paw prints dance around the exterior portion of the frame. It seemed as if they never moved in a linear fashion, they were moving in and out of the frame, but had such a great sense of order to them. I shifted my position on the bed once again with the frame gripped tightly in my thin fingers. With a shaky breath, I traced a finger along the shape of the person in the picture. My mother. I can tell who she is without a flicker of hesitation. My mother, Rose…Rose Marion Tyler, was in the picture frame. She seemed so happy, so at ease in what seemed to be the TARDIS control room. She was on the captain's bench, with her feet tucked up underneath, and her tongue pressed up against her teeth in a wide grin. A book seemed to be lying abandoned in her lap. I don't know how long I had been staring at the picture when a tear hit the glass.

A shadow had fallen across the center of the room as my father stood in the doorway; I hadn't even noticed him come in through my overwhelming grief.

* * *

The Doctor had begun to look for James throughout the TARDIS' corridors, following the trail of excitement, awe, and admiration for his (new new old?) home. He chuckled when James had come across one of many supply closets in his expedition and sensed his sheer disbelief at something so ordinary being aboard the "Bigger on the Inside" ship. There were several times when his subtle connection with his son had faltered, but eventually he would catch onto it once again with a sigh of relief. From what he could recall, James had already seen the library, the Doctor's room but had not been inside, the wardrobe, and…somehow Rose's door, but had not gone in. In a moment of confusion, the Doctor noticed the TARDIS' melody chiming in reassurance; that was a moment for the Doctor to decide, not her. He thought back his thanks accompanied with a stroke to the coral wall before stopping by his own room quickly to rid himself of his trench coat. With the sonic tucked securely into his infinitely large trouser pockets, he continued his search for James.

The Doctor had just passed the Galley when he sensed the TARDIS' amusement and James' stunned awe. He laughed as his son moved around what he didn't know to be his room yet. Hands in his pockets he moved towards his son's bedroom. Suddenly, the awe filled appreciation began to dwindle before eventually vanishing completely. The Doctor tried desperately to get a hold of James through their mental link, but it was to no avail. He began to pick up his pace until he was in the start of a sprint. His ship soothed him a bit as he moved into the hallway with James' room, but it still didn't relieve any of his worries. Just outside of his doorway, he saw his son sitting on his bed, holding what seemed to be a picture frame. His shoulders were shaking slightly as he noted that his hazel eyes never once moved their focus from the frame.

_I'm pretty sure he hasn't even noticed me yet, _he thought to himself.

"Thanks Old Girl," he whispered gratefully as he rubbed a small portion of the door frame before pushing off and moving into the room.

* * *

I felt the bed sink underneath me from his weight as he took a seat next to me. He handed me a tissue as the tears continued to travel down my cheeks in a salty stream. I set down the picture frame next to me and spun myself around into his chest. There is a chance I may have startled him and I didn't notice, but after a moment he laid his arm around my shoulders. I cried into his chest as he ran a hand soothingly up and down my back, occasionally patting my shoulder. He smelled like exotic spices, a bit of an earthy scent, somewhat like me, and like time itself. In over eight years I had not once cried over the loss of either of my parents, yet somehow after only hours of being "home" the dam had broken loose and the tears flowed freely. He started to hum a calming melody as I continued to sob heavily into his chest, it was one I hadn't heard since I was so, so young. I tucked myself under his chin, close enough to feel the rumble of the deep Gallifreyan lullaby as he quietly sang it, close enough to feel the same double heartbeat we both shared. I'm very much sure no one my age would want to be caught dead crying like this to a parent, but after all I had been through, after all HE had been through, I think it could serve as proper justification. In my own moment of weakness, I hadn't even realized he had started to shed a few tears of his own. Nevertheless, he kept humming the lullaby.

* * *

The Doctor had been startled when James had whipped himself into his chest and had begun sobbing heavily. After a moment however, he began rubbing his son's shoulders soothingly. James had started to clutch onto the wool material of his pinstripe suit with desperate thin fingers. If he didn't start trying to calm him down quickly, their now returning bond would become overwhelming. With a sudden thought, the Doctor began to hum the very melody he would always sing to James when he would be fussy or have night terrors as an infant. He felt his son shift himself so that his tufty copper hair was right underneath his chin and the Doctor willingly obliged to giving him enough room. His sobs had begun to recede, but the Doctor continued to sing the lullaby softly, doing whatever he could to provide the well needed comfort James had been lacking. Seeing his son so broken, so emotionally torn, was enough to cause him to shed a few tears of his own. He blinked them away, thinking of how his Rose would be proud of their son now, knowing that this could've been different if not for that fateful day. He could've lost his son forever, never knowing or even meeting his own flesh and blood. Tightening his hold on his son, he began to sway them gently, placing a light kiss in the crown of his tufty hair, before using his chin to tuck his head closer to him.

"You're alright James, it's okay, you're okay. I'm here, I'll always be here." He murmured reassuringly to his son.

* * *

Together we sat on the bed, he pulled me into a tight hug, talking calmly and softly, and I continued to clutch onto his light blue oxford shirt, subconsciously holding to make sure he wasn't going to leave like a dream. I had quite a few of those a couple of years ago, when I would fall asleep and wake up in a cold sweat clutching onto my pillow. After a while I did calm down and the tears subsided for the most part, except for the occasional sniffle.

"Who took the picture?" I asked in a harsh whisper.

"I did," he said quietly.

"How long before or after, you know..." I trailed off, hoping he would catch on. My ears were already slightly pink at the implication of the question.

Even without seeing his face, I could tell his cheeks had a tinge of blush on them through the slight awkwardness he gave off in our connection. Yet another trait we had in common.

"Well," he drawled a bit before chuckling to relieve some tension, "From the difference between Pete's Universe and this one," he glanced over at where the frame lay and cleared his throat, "it was after."

He moved an arm to grab the picture frame as delicately as I had. He held it out in front of the both of us in his left hand. I kept myself burrowed in the soft wool of his brown pinstripe suit, already knowing what picture was held within its platinum frame.

"Yes, about a week after," he took a shaky breath, "then we went to see her mum and then the cybermen…Then she was saved by Pete and taken into his universe to save her from the void."

"ddjchulubger?" I mumbled into his chest.

"What was that?" he laughed softly. It was a nice sound when he laughed, so open and warm.

I pulled back from the safety and warmth of my spot by his right heart and looked up at him. He had a confused look in his moist warm whiskey brown eyes. I could've sworn they were normally chocolate brown.

"Did you love her?" I asked again.

He put the frame back on the nightstand then pulled me back into a tight hug, "Of course I did James," he mumbled into my hair, "I always will no matter the circumstances."

I took a deep shaky breath and let myself relish in the comfort of his hug for one more moment. He pulled me away from him a bit, grinning at my ruffled hair no doubt, but his was just as unruly. A moment later, he pulled a handkerchief out of his pants pocket; it had the same swirl pattern as his brown and blue tie. He flicked it open then handed it to me.

"Thanks," I said meekly.

"You're welcome," he said with a small smile.

He ruffled my hair and wiped a stray tear from my cheek before moving to stand up. My dad slowly strode over towards the corner with the beanbag chair. I reached over for the picture frame he had replaced on my nightstand and after a moment's pause asked him another question.

"What was she like?"

He moved straight towards the bookcase that was near the desk. Thoughtfully, he trailed his nimble fingers over several knickknacks that lay on the top. After a moment of thought, he picked up what seemed to be a random shiny knick-knack that could've blended in at a flea market. It looked like it had a bit of an Indian style, a bit like a sugar pot.

"Bazoolian," he murmured with a slight smirk before turning it slowly in his nimble fingers.

"Rose was, well in a word," he paused and I turned to get a better look at him, "fantastic," he wore a poignant smile as he spoke.

"Your mother was the one who would stick up to me to prove her point, never would she back down against something or someone she thought was wrong. She made me a better person…"

I placed the picture back on the nightstand. With a sigh, I got up off the bed. Hankie in a bleached knuckled grasp in my left hand, I walked back over to where my dad stood, observing the random knick-knacks on the top of the bookcase.

"So, how do you like your new room?" he asked me with his hands in his pockets.

I turned to look at him in surprise, "This is my room?"

"Well I suppose it would be, considering what's in it."

Even though I had grown up in New York City, developed the accent and everything, hearing my dad speak with his Estuary English accent felt like second nature. It brought a slight grin to my lips.

I took another quick glance around, "I love it."

He beamed back down at me, his grin feeling infectious even after our melancholy moment. I handed him back his handkerchief, which he slid effortlessly into his pocket.

"I believe you would want this back," he said while pulling my telescope out of his chest pocket.

"Thank you," I breathed in relief.

He handed it to me before crossing back over to the door. I ran to put my telescope on my nightstand before following him out.

"Do you know the quickest way to get to the Wardrobe room?" I inquired.

He shot me a curious look, "At the next hall make a left, another left, then a right. If you don't mind me asking…why?"

I ran ahead of him, turned on my heel and gave him a cheeky grin,

"I need a new look."

* * *

**Please R&R :) Hope you enjoyed!**


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey everyone! I know it's been awhile since I've updated this story but life has been really hectic. I'm hoping to publish another chapter sometime soon and maybe a one-shot fic as well :) As always please read and review! It's one of the main reasons as to why this story is still going! If there are any gaps in the story or any confusion, please feel free to PM me, I'll try to sort it out! **

**ENJOY!**

* * *

Chapter 4

I ran the route my dad had told me and wound up once again in front of the wardrobe room. After sprinting around two corners and almost slipping on the last one, the wardrobe room doors stood majestically in front of me. Giddy with excitement, I yanked open the doors before strolling in. As far as I could see, endless amounts of clothes were intertwined with the coral struts that branched out from the center of the room, requiring a spiral staircase straight smack in the middle to be able to reach everything in the selection. I pulled out my glasses from their residing spot in my chest pocket. I slid them easily onto the bridge of my nose before glancing around quickly to browse through the wide selection of clothes. They ranged anywhere from Elizabethan times to the roaring 1920's. I knew all my dad ever wore were his two suits and the small variety of shirts and ties that went with them. I stood awestruck for a moment before realizing that after more than 900 years of traveling you were bound to pick up a pretty hefty wardrobe.

Unknowingly, I leaned against one of the coral struts, my neck craning to look up at the three tiers of clothes I could see. With a sigh and a quick ruffling of my hair, I walked over to the mirror. I sighed at my charcoal long sleeve polo and gray slacks; I've been wearing this same outfit since I was seven. Now that I was back with my dad where I belonged, I should have a completely fresh start. Turning my head this way and that before giving my reflection a cheeky grin, I took off towards the first tier in the wardrobe room.

As I began to sift through the first tier of clothes, the silence in the room seemed a bit too eerie. By second nature, I began to hum one of the songs I love to listen too.

"_Empty handed, surrounded by a senseless scene. _

_With nothing of significance, besides a shadow of a dream. _

_You sound like an old joke; you're worn out, a bit broken. _

_Asking me time and time again. _

_And the answer's still the same_…"

When the echo of the last line fell upon my ears, a foolish grin overtook my cheeks. This wardrobe room had great acoustics.

I smiled even more to myself and kept going. I'm pretty sure to anyone else who could see me now would think I was insane. Singing has always been one of my favorite ways to unwind; I always seem to get lost in the rhythm and my thoughts follow soon after. Well, my favorite way will always be looking at the stars of course…but! Regardless, music can do wonders for my mood. I started up from the beginning and once I got to the chorus, I realized the TARDIS had joined in.

She poured out the melody over her speakers, the sound amplified by the wardrobe's acoustics,

"_See the world,_

_Find an old fashioned girl_

_And when all's been said and done_

_It's the things that are given, not won_

_Are the things that you earned"_

I laughed, joined her in good spirits and sang as loud as I could while I moving on to the next section of clothes. There were older articles of clothing in this section: a red velvet suit, a very old looking classical type suit, and a white dress shirt with a peculiar looking bow. Next, a scarf I swear could be a mile long was the first thing in the following row. Perplexed I picked it up, wondering if it was my dad's at some point or if it belonged to one of his companions, but nonetheless I wrapped around myself and kept rummaging. Most of the clothes I was coming across were too big for me, I was starting to grow discouraged. Just then the TARDIS decided to start playing another one of my favorites.

"_I'm the whinin' boy, don't deny my name_

_I'm the whinin' boy, don't deny my name_

_Deny my name, whinin' boy, don't deny my name_

_Pick it up, shake it like Steven Shain…"_

"Ha, ha, ha. Very funny." I said to the ceiling with feigned irritation.

After she kept playing it though, I started to sing along. She had picked Hugh Laurie's version of the song that had come out about four years ago. Yet again, she knew my preference in music.

The options I had already come across were beginning to not look very promising. Finally after about fifteen minutes of looking and a tier and a half later, an outfit finally caught my fancy.

"Well this looks nice," I said with an approving tone.

I had snatched up a gray zip up sweater, slim black pants, and a navy blue Henley. Snagging them from their corresponding spots I went over to one of the mirrors to take a look. It wasn't much of a swap of what I was already wearing. I had on a long sleeve charcoal polo with grey pants, not much of a difference of what I held in my hand.

"What do you think girl?" I asked the TARDIS.

She gave me the equivalent of a very clear no disguised as an indifferent gesture within our link. With a sigh, I lay the items over a metal chair parallel with the mirror.

"You're right. Well off to keep looking." I told her with a dejected sigh.

I resumed my position where I left off, looking through the third section of clothes. Once again, although not to my surprise, the TARDIS started to play another song.

"_When you're lonely,_

_Lost your way_

_And you're in your darkest days_

_Don't you the suns going to shine on._

_When your luck is running out_

_And your mind is full of doubt_

_Don't you know that everything will work out just fine…"_

I chuckled, "Seems we share a good taste in music," I told her.

She gave me an affirmative chime through our link. Whistling along with the song, I kept searching for something new to wear. Outfit by outfit I made my way around the present tier without much success and even made it halfway around the third tier before I found my needle in a haystack. Before this, my search had led me to find a hideously multi colored coat, an umbrella, a cricket coat with a piece of celery on it (I really, _REALLY, _hope this wasn't my dad's), and a pretty big and well-worn leather jacket. But now I had finally just found what I needed. In a mad dash, I slid down the staircase's railing with outfit in hand and into the changing room on the left portion of the room.

* * *

Walking out of the changing room, I went to go see myself in the mirror. Hands in my pockets, I was thoroughly happy with what I saw. There I stood with a confident smirk while I gave myself a once over glance. The dark green button up I'd found somewhere in the third tier was layered over the burgundy t-shirt I had found nearby. Slim brown jeans I had found among the atrocious mess of the sixth tier fit to my exact height and were very comfortable to be in (also very flexible for running, I noted). I bounced on my toes, grinning down at the shoes that had taken me forever to find, but had finally found them among a jumble of clothes from the 1940's. Black and white saddle shoes comfortably cushioned my feet. They were in remarkable condition; still having their undeniable shine. With one last quick glance at my reflection, I ran my hand through my tufty copper hair; I gave a short nod and then moved to start to leave. I passed by the gray zip up sweater I had tossed precariously over the back of the chair during my search.

"On second thought," I scooped it up, "I may need this."

I zipped it up over my green button shirt, enjoying the layers I had, and started to make my way out of the wardrobe room.

"Found something you like?" my dad asked as I walked around the second corner. He had just walked out of the library.

I gave him a huge grin, "Yeah I did. Whatcha think?"

He chuckled, "Well, it seems to suit you perfectly," he paused for a moment, "the shoes are a nice touch."

"It took me ages to find them."

"I can imagine," he mumbled, apparently lost in thought.

We turned to continue down the hall towards the central control room. The thought of my dad in that hideous multi colored jacket popped into my mind once more. No matter how hard I tried to suppress the laughter in my mind, he took note of it from our link.

"Now what's got you tickled?" he looked at me with an eyebrow quirked upwards.

That sent me roaring with laughter as the image of him in that eye offending rainbow jacket paired up with the long scarf and the same look he had on his face right now at this moment.

Physically unable to respond from loss of breath (and still laughing), I sent him the picture that I had conjured up. I could feel his grimace when he saw what I was seeing. After I righted myself from laughing so hard, we kept walking down the hall.

"Not one of my best fashion choices," he grumbled, shooting me a smirk.

Now it was my turn to raise an eyebrow at him as I sent him the image of the cricket suit, question mark vest, velvet suit, and the umbrella.

"Oi! Not many people can pull off a decorative vegetable." He stuck his chin up snootily before snorting, "Then again, not many people would think to."

I gave him a smile with, unknowingly with my tongue pressed behind my teeth.

"Well obviously you were the only one who's been able to accomplish it." I quipped while we walked up the grating to the center console.

He paused before turning towards me, the poignant smile confusing me for a second. He pulled a hand out of his pocket, reaching over to ruffle my hair. I felt a sad kind of happiness through our link.

"Yeah," he whispered gravely.

I looked up at him, confused by his sudden change in demeanor. His chocolate brown eyes shown with emotion as he met my gaze. With a sigh, he ruffled my hair again before pulling me into a sudden hug. I was about to ask him if he was alright before he answered my unspoken question.

"You can be so much like your mother sometimes." He sighed.

"Is that good or bad?"

"It's good. Very, very good. Brilliant in fact. James, your mother was the most fantastic person I had known in years; all pink and yellow with her stubborn antics. Oh she could change the fate of the world if she was dead set on it. Never once was anything about her or what would be best for her. Everyone everywhere had her always thinking for the best of others." I could've sworn he would've had to take a breath by now, he pulled back and ruffled my hair a bit more with a slight grin.

"Your mother was a fantastic, brilliant person, and so yes it is good that you share certain characteristics with her."

"A simple good would've been alright with me," I said cheekily but let him feel through our link that it was nice to hear about my mom again.

"And you are very welcome." He chuckled before giving my shoulder a pat and moving the central console.

"Forwards or backwards?"

I gave him a mischievous look, "Forwards, definitely."


End file.
